


Bewitched and Bothered

by gidget_84



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-04
Updated: 2014-03-04
Packaged: 2018-01-14 12:03:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1265821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gidget_84/pseuds/gidget_84
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Season 3 AU<br/>For ishi_chan’s Teen Wolf comment ficathon prompt: I dreamed that you, bewitched me into bed and sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane. Not exact, at all. Excuse for porn lol<br/>-------------------------------------------------</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bewitched and Bothered

It had been two weeks since that horrible night.

———-

The night she thought Jackson had died, but then she’d saved him with only a key; or doomed him, she wasn’t sure yet.

———-

Allison’s grandfather still hadn’t been found, and the “Alpha Pack” or whatever she’d heard about from Jackson was staying hidden, for now.

She knew it was only a matter of time; then he’d be out there with the rest of them, fighting for a territory he didn’t even own.

———-

This was what he’d wanted though, he had _finally_ confided in her.

The strength, agility, cunning, the senses that were so sensitive he could hear her heartbeat from a mile away.

———-

She was still trying to get used to the fact that her boyfriend was a werewolf.

Just the idea still confused her; how had she not known there were werewolves in her midst?

How had _they_ kept that a secret from _her_?

More importantly, why keep it a secret at all?

To make sure she didn’t get hurt or get put into any danger? Because that seemed to happen anyway.

———

Sometimes it makes her angry that they kept her in the dark for so long.

Other times she’s thankful for being oblivious, especially when she had her own personal problems to deal with.

———-

Of course, it all tied together.

———-

Her memory of the craziness that Peter Hale put her through was still hazy; and unfortunately, she still dreamed of him sometimes.

———-

They all think she just doesn’t remember and had let it go; she doesn’t know when they had confused her for someone who just gave up.

She’d always been stubborn and headstrong; they _knew_ that. Why was this time any different?

———-

Because _they_ want to move on; they want to _forget_.

———

She’s not the forgetting or forgiving type though. She’ll get her answers one way or another.

———-

The straight-forward approach was the best, in her opinion. Why beat around the bush, if you could just ask?

She trudges to the Hale house, cursing the dirt, mud, and just _nature_ in general.

They were currently re-building the house.

She guesses it was Peter’s idea, since Derek hadn’t been very gung-ho about it before.

———-

Did she mention she had brought the biggest kitchen knife she could find at home?

She needs some sort of retribution, and threatening that son of a bitch for answers, seemed like the perfect way to get it.

———-

_Fucking werewolves; she’s already sick of them._

———-

She doesn’t knock, just walks through the front door; which apparently still needs to be fitted for a lock anyway.

She really hopes they hurry with the construction and paint soon; the house reeks of dog, or well wolf, whatever.

———-

Derek looks up to see her coming through the living room; he’s making a sandwich for lunch.

“Hey Lydia, why are you…”

She cuts him off, “where is your uncle?”

“He’s upstairs, uh…”

Pulling out the knife, she starts heading for the staircase.

Derek shrugs to himself and eats his sandwich; “good luck with that” he mumbles around the bread.

———-

Not knocking again, she opens what she can only assume is his bedroom door; it’s the master bedroom, so she figures that’s where he moved in.

She opens the door, right when he steps out of the bathroom; of course, it’s just her luck he had just come out of the shower.

She stares for a split second at a water droplet that is currently making its way down his chest.

———-

“Hello, Lydia…nice surprise” he says

She brandishes the knife and the smile leaves his face.

“You” she states, “have _a lot_ to answer for”. Knife in hand she starts walking towards him, uncaring he was indecent.

He immediately starts to back up, hands coming up in supplication. “There’s no need for that, I was going to tell you everything…”

She backs him into a wall, the knife going to his throat.

He visibly gulps, waiting to see what she’ll do.

“Of course you were; I’m here now, so start talking” she says.

“Can you put the knife down?” he asks

She answers by nicking his neck, just the tiniest drop of blood.

“Ow” he lets out, like its everyday this happens.

His eyes narrow briefly at her, the only sign of emotion she sees.

Taking a step back, she motions towards the bed.

———-

When he sits down he smirks and says “oh I see. Was this just an attempt to get me into bed?”

Stepping in front of him she looks down at him “did you need a repeat performance, or did you just want me to go ahead and stab you out of frustration?” her voice coming out _more_ shrill than she intended.

———-

He suddenly knocks the knife out of her grasp; as it clatters to the floor he grabs her around the waist and pulls her down with him, rolling them over.

He’s a lot heavier than he looks, as she tries in vain to shove him off of her.

Her arms are trapped though between them, and trying to push someone with your forearms doesn’t work well.

———-

Luckily, he’s still got at least a towel on; she wasn’t looking forward to a peep show.

———-

She hears him chuckle, warm breath wafting onto her neck, “Oh well, I don’t know…I could probably be persuaded.”

Rolling her eyes she says, “Will you quit that? It’s bad enough I’m still having dreams about you.”

———-

He looks at her then, faces inches apart, “sorry about that, it’s kind of a side effect…”

She huffs, “and when will _that_ go away?”

“Um…I don’t really know” and he at least has the decency to look sheepish.

She renews her struggling, “are you kidding? You don’t know?”

“Nope, not kidding…and you should really stop doing that…” he trails off

She stops when she notices the towel is going to slip off if she keeps squirming.

“Are people seriously buying this whole _your really weak act_?” she asks

Instead of answering her, he nuzzles near her ear and lowers his voice, breathing in…“ _you_ smell so good…I could _eat_ you.”

———-

Her eyes close at his words, and she could damn him for having _that_ voice.

———-

He starts placing kisses to her throat, “so beautiful, so gorgeous Lydia, my sweetheart and _you are so very sweet_ …” he nips at her earlobe “if only you’d let me taste you _again_.”

She opens her eyes to see him looking into her own, asking permission perhaps.

She crosses the distance for him, attacking his mouth with her own.

Her mouth tastes like the strawberry lip-gloss she always wore.

Her tongue tracing his lips; his hold on her loosens, and her arms are free to reach around to his back. Palms sliding over smooth skin and muscle; this was so _much better_ than her dreams.

Touching him, tasting him, and…there was something she was supposed to be doing…but then that thought goes out the window when she feels one of his hands slide up her thigh and into her panties.

Why does she even wear skirts in this town?

Oh, that’s right…so she can seduce anyone she pleases with just a hint of bare…

———-

He stops the kiss and goes back to attack her throat with lips and tongue; his voice continuing her train of thought… “Hint of bare luscious legs…your legs are perfect, so long and the feel of them wrapping around me as I fuck you…”

“Fuck”…”Peter”…

She can feel him smile as he continues to rub her clit, the dirty talk getting her off just as much as his hand and…then he slips two fingers inside her and “Oh god!”

“No, just me. So fucking wet for me Lydia…this is what you wanted right?”

“My fingers _deep inside_ you…fucking you…getting you off, making you come for me…is this what you dream about too? Or do I roll you over and use my cock instead to _fuck you from behind_ …”

“Does it excite you knowing the monster is there beneath the surface…the wolf could come out at any moment and take you _harder, faster, rougher_ …”

———-

He kisses her; swallowing those lovely sounds she makes when she climaxes, as Derek is downstairs, and Peter knows how loud Lydia can be.

Eyes half-lidded she watches him suck those two fingers into his mouth. “Sweet, so sweet…delicious, just like I remembered.”

“I think you may have _bewitched_ me Lydia, I can’t _stop thinking about you_. About what I want to do to you…”

———-

The seriousness of his tone finally gets through to her sex-addled brain. For some reason the word bewitched is echoing in her thoughts and…“Peter, why did you choose me?”

“Because my sweet girl, my darling…you’re a witch.”

The answer doesn’t stun her as much as she thinks it should. She’ll learn more later, for now…for now she’ll bask in the after-glow of amazing _almost_ sex.

She closes her eyes and is on the verge of drifting off to sleep when, “You know…I don’t like this Jackson situation. I know you _think_ you love him but…”

———-

_That motherfucker_ …she’s up and grabbing the knife from the ground.

“You! You seduced me!”

“Well yeah, but you wanted it” he says.

“And how dare you tell me what _I_ feel!”

She goes at him with the knife again; he’s out the door and she runs after him.

———-

Derek hears running footsteps coming down the stairs and sees his uncle run past buck-naked. So much for the towel.

Lydia is hot on his trail, with the knife poised in the air, as she runs past him.

Derek looks up briefly and says “Why me?”

Before running after the both of them.

 


End file.
